Hi, Wifey! [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 26

At the charity gala, Fu Xia strictly followed Zhou Wen’s advice—acting as nothing more than a beautiful poster girl. Aside from stepping on stage to introduce her painting, she didn’t utter an extra word. The wealthy attendees showed considerable face, bidding her mediocre painting up to a staggering five million yuan, which even surprised Fu Xia herself.

Five million was no small sum. From the stage, Fu Xia could only vaguely make out the person holding up the bidding paddle. It wasn’t until after the auction that she learned the bidder was merely a secretary acting on behalf of someone else—the actual buyer never showed themselves.

Though Fu Xia was curious about who had purchased her painting, the thought of it possibly being some greasy middle-aged man annoyed her. She disliked conversing with these wealthy businessmen anyway; their lecherous gazes always made her skin crawl.

The banquet didn’t end until midnight. Still full of energy, Fu Xia carried her high heels as she walked along the red carpet and asked Cheng Wanyu, who was behind her, “Aren’t you going to take yours off? These heels are killing me.”

Standing on the steps, Cheng Wanyu watched Fu Xia pacing around barefoot and couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m fine with them,” she said.

Fu Xia didn’t press further. Clutching her shoes, she jogged over and plopped down on the steps, gazing up at the dark night sky. “Wonder whose home my painting will end up in.”

Cheng Wanyu smiled faintly. “Who knows?”

Noticing the thinning crowd, she asked, “Where’s your assistant?”

Fu Xia stretched her feet, relaxing. “No idea. She told me to wait here—probably went to get the car.”

Cheng Wanyu’s eyes lingered on Fu Xia’s delicate toes before she descended the steps and sat beside her. Though many guests still lingered in the banquet hall, neither of them enjoyed the bustle, so they had decided to leave early. Yet their rides seemed to be taking their time.

As Fu Xia massaged her sore heels, Cheng Wanyu watched, her gaze drifting between Fu Xia’s calves and toes. A long while later, the sound of a car horn finally drew their attention—it was Cheng Wanyu’s car.

“Your ride,” Fu Xia said, a hint of envy in her voice. “You go ahead. I’ll wait here for Zhou Wen.”

Cheng Wanyu hesitated, uneasy about leaving Fu Xia alone. “Come with me. We’re both heading back to the hotel anyway.”

Fu Xia wavered. “But Zhou Wen told me to wait here.”

Neither of them had brought their phones to the gala, and Fu Xia worried Zhou Wen would panic if she couldn’t find her. After a moment’s thought, Cheng Wanyu stood, walked to the car window, and asked Guan Yunwen for her phone. Returning, she handed it to Fu Xia. “Call her. Tell her you’re leaving with me.”

Fu Xia took the phone but sighed helplessly. “I don’t remember Zhou Wen’s number.”

It wasn’t entirely her fault—Fu Xia couldn’t even recall her own phone number, let alone someone else’s. Her phone handled that, not her.

She returned the phone to Cheng Wanyu. “You should go with Guan-jie. I’ll be fine waiting here.”

Cheng Wanyu didn’t respond. Taking the phone, she glanced at her car, then walked over and handed it back through the window. After exchanging a few words, the car paused briefly before driving off—leaving Cheng Wanyu standing alone on the red carpet.

Fu Xia: “???”

Cheng Wanyu walked back, holding her phone, and sat down on the steps beside Fu Xia. “I’ll wait with you,” she said. “It’s so late anyway, it’s not like you’re going anywhere else.”

Fu Xia was surprised, but seeing Cheng Wanyu had no intention of leaving, she realized the other woman was determined to keep her company.

Why was she being so nice to her?

Fu Xia looked at her in confusion and finally asked the question that had been on her mind: “Wanyu, why do you take such good care of me?”

Cheng Wanyu turned to look at her.

Fu Xia continued, “We never got along before, but ever since we started filming together, you’ve been especially kind to me.”

She used to think Cheng Wanyu was an unapproachable ice queen, a flower on a high peak—untouchable. But after spending months together, she realized Cheng Wanyu was just quiet by nature. At heart, she was a gentle person, always patient with someone like Fu Xia, never losing her temper, and even willing to go downstairs for late-night snacks with her.

Female celebrities were usually strict about their figures, but whenever Fu Xia invited Cheng Wanyu out to eat, she never refused.

Sometimes, Fu Xia even felt like Cheng Wanyu spoiled her too much.

Cheng Wanyu gazed at Fu Xia, her dark eyes deepening. After a long pause, she finally said, “Because you’re a good person. That’s why I want to spend more time with you. You’re different from what people say.”

Fu Xia chuckled, her eyes curving into crescents, bright as stars.

“You’re right,” Fu Xia nodded. “A lot of people think I’m hard to get along with, but that’s just my public persona. I don’t have the best way with words, and I tend to rub people the wrong way, so I figured I might as well lean into the ‘difficult’ image. That way, even if I offend someone, they can’t really blame me.”

Though… constantly being criticized didn’t feel great.

But the “blackened celebrity” persona was something her company had pushed on her. Even if Fu Xia didn’t like it, she had no choice—she still had to make a living.

Cheng Wanyu looked at her and said, “It won’t be like that forever. More people will see your good qualities.”

Fu Xia gave a bitter smile. “I’d settle for them just not cursing me out. That’d be a stroke of luck already.”

Cheng Wanyu reached out, her pinky subtly brushing against the side of Fu Xia’s hand, making Fu Xia glance over in confusion.

Fu Xia: “?”

Cheng Wanyu cleared her throat. “Don’t overthink it. Things will work out in the end.”

Fu Xia smiled and nodded.

By the time Zhou Wen drove over, Fu Xia had already fallen asleep, her head resting against Cheng Wanyu’s shoulder. Zhou Wen and the driver had been stuck in the parking lot for half an hour, and Fu Xia had been too exhausted to stay awake. In the end, Cheng Wanyu carried her into the car, and the two of them returned to the hotel together.

The success of the charity gala gave the attending celebrities a significant boost in popularity. After all, it was an event where fame and fortune intertwined, and fans were eager to see what their idols had contributed. When it was revealed that Fu Xia’s oil painting had sold for five million, everyone was stunned.

Seriously? That talentless hack’s painting went for five mil? There’s gotta be something shady going on. Did she sleep her way to that price?

Obviously. Cheng Wanyu’s ivory jewelry set barely cracked two million. No way Fu Xia’s garbage is worth more.

I bet the auction ended and she immediately booked a hotel room. That’s just how shameless Fu Xia is, right?

Apart from all these malicious comments, Fu Xia’s fans also spoke up:

“Can you not be so vulgar? The auction money is all going to charity, used to build schools and do good deeds. How can you make it sound so disgusting?”

“Besides, our Xiaxia is beautiful inside and out. Her paintings aren’t just worth five million—they could fetch fifty million! A bunch of country bumpkins have the nerve to throw a fit here.”

“Those talking about ‘sleeping around’ must have nothing but filth in their brains. Truly, people see what they want to see.”

“…”

Later, the official account showcased Fu Xia’s painting along with other auction items, sparking even more uproar among fans. Some claimed her painting wasn’t worth that much, others insisted there must be some shady dealings, and a few even accused her of money laundering—no insult was spared.

Fu Xia’s fans jumped into the fray, but since the accusations were baseless, the uproar eventually died down.

Lately, Fu Xia had grown tired of reading these trending comments. The pattern was always the same: outsiders bashing her, her fans desperately defending her, followed by both sides hurling insults, cursing each other’s families, and dragging the fight from dawn till dusk, from one corner of the internet to the other.

Now, Fu Xia much preferred reading the comments in the Cheng-Fu Shipper community—it was nothing but harmony.

Take the uproar over that five-million-yuan painting, for example. The Cheng-Fu shippers had their own unique take:

“If you ask me, Fu Xia’s painting is clearly about the loneliness of long nights. Look, it’s a city nightscape—so vibrant yet so quiet. It must express our Xiaxia’s longing for Wanyu!”

“No, no! On the surface, it looks lively and bustling, but if you look closer, it’s clearly the view from a high-rise’s floor-to-ceiling window. You know what that means?”

“What does it mean?”

“Remember when fans said Xiaxia and Wanyu were staying at the same hotel a while back? This is obviously a hint to the world that they’re already living together!!!!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

“Holy crap, that makes sense! Otherwise, why would Xiaxia paint a city nightscape out of the blue? They must be cohabiting!”

“OMG OMG OMG! How did you even deduce that? You’re like a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, Kindaichi, and Conan rolled into one!”

“And as for the person who bought the painting for five million? I bet anything it was our Wanyu!”

“Xiaxia’s painting bought by Wanyu—oh my god, this couple is too sweet!”

Fu Xia hugged her phone, utterly baffled. How on earth had these people concluded that her painting had been bought by Cheng Wanyu? She had been right there in the venue with her at the time!

These shippers really had wild imaginations.

Lying on her bed, kicking her feet, Fu Xia scrolled through the new fan content with amusement. Ever since she and Cheng Wanyu had followed each other, the Cheng-Fu Shipper community had grown exponentially. But a bigger crowd wasn’t all bad—it meant the fandom was livelier than ever, with more and more talented creators churning out content!

After binge-watching several sweet fan-made videos, Fu Xia’s favorite was one edited by a YouTuber called “Da Fu Sheng Jian.” The creator had spliced together clips from their respective works, weaving a bittersweet tale of love and conflict that left Fu Xia completely hooked.

Just as Fu Xia was about to rewatch that lady’s video, the bedroom door was pushed open.

Zhou Wen stood at the doorway, looking at Fu Xia’s utterly lazy posture, and couldn’t help but say, “Don’t just laze around in bed just because it’s a holiday. Get up and walk around once in a while.”

Fu Xia swung her legs and said, “I’m not sick—why should I walk around?”

Zhou Wen replied disapprovingly, “Even if you’re not sick, you should still get up and move a bit.”

Fu Xia whined, “No, no, no, no!”

Zhou Wen sighed helplessly at her laziness and could only say, “Fine, do as you like. But come with me tomorrow.”

Still scrolling through her phone without looking up, Fu Xia asked, “What’s the point of going out in the middle of summer?”

Zhou Wen replied calmly, “We’re meeting the new boss.”

Fu Xia froze for a moment before it clicked—oh right, her old company had changed hands.